


The Color of the Summer Sky

by PazithiGallifreya



Series: Halordin & Badari [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings Online
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10740540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PazithiGallifreya/pseuds/PazithiGallifreya
Summary: Wherein a cat ruins a Moment





	The Color of the Summer Sky

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly written by [Ali](http://eomer.tumblr.com) with a few extra bits from me.

_Freeing_

That was the word Halordin thought to describe this day so far, as he walked among a stand of tall oaks.

The afternoon sun shone down upon the grove of trees that the men of Bree-Land called Far Chetwood. It was a small but heavily wooded landscape with a vast lake nearby - a far cry from the vast forest of Lothlorien, but pleasant nonetheless. It lay just north of  a mixed settlement of Men and Hobbits called Archet. It was always a place Halordin kept close to his heart during days of his lonesome wanderings, and would make a point to pass by this location often.

But for the first time, he wasn’t alone.

An affectionate smile tweaked his lips as he stole a glance at his companion, glad that she had agreed to his suggestion of a walk today. Her thick red mane gleamed like copper whenever the sunlight would touch it, and it swayed heavily as she walked. She had worn it loose this day. He always liked it when she wore it thus, while her beard was tied up in an intricate braided fashion. Halordin looked away from Badari and over his shoulder at his mountain lynx, Verya. She padded as silently as a shadow behind the pair, alert and focused on her surroundings, as usual.

Halordin sneaked another glance at Badari, his thoughts concerning the dwarrowdam churning in his mind. He was momentarily taken back to those fateful days in southern Mirkwood, where he had first met her and had fought beside her. And that night he had tended to her wounds after a skirmish with a pack of Uruk-Hai and they had shared some sort of... moment.

He lost himself for the moment in those memories of their shared past - of how he had healed her in the cove, the hesitant touches they had shared, and becoming separated only days later. He never expected to meet her again under Arda’s skies.

 _Small world_ , he thought wryly.

Halordin wondered how they had stuck together this time, after another chance meeting. They had gathered a group of diverse friends along the way, though and often traveled with them - friends he had come to cherish and think of as kindred. Hobbits, dwarves, elves, a few men as well - it was a motley bunch but somehow they had bonded together as soldiers united against the evil spilling forth from Mordor.

It was safe to say that during these past few months traveling with this assortment, Halordin and Badari had grown closer. Their first meeting still lay unspoken between them, and Halordin was not certain Badari even recalled what had happened, although she would look at him sometimes and he would think she knew. He did not quite know how to bring it up, however, and she did not broach the topic either, perhaps waiting for him to do so first.

He’d slowly picked up the common tongue, the Westron spoken among the others, but he often found it difficult to find the right words to express what came so easily to him in his own thoughts. He’d been teaching the dwarf a touch of Sindarin, but her grasp of his language was coming along about as swiftly as his understanding of her language. He’d hear her muttering something in the dwarven tongue now and then, but that, she kept to herself.

Somehow, they managed.

They flirted shamelessly these days, ignoring the eye rolling and discrete coughs of their companions. And stole gentle, and sometimes fiery kisses. And yet something felt…off. Often he couldn’t tell if it was love, or lust, or something else entirely he felt towards her. He couldn’t place it, and frankly, didn’t want to dwell on it. The threat of Mordor still hung over them and crowded his thoughts and his feelings. He wished again that this war had never come, but knew it was futile to wish for what could not be. It was there, and like all of the free peoples of Arda who lived in this age, it was their duty to fight it.

A long sigh escaped him, louder than he realized, for the dwarf that had been consuming his thoughts suddenly turned her face up to him, her brow crinkled curiously.

“Something wrong?” she inquired. Halordin shook his head, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I was just thinking how beautiful Nen Harn looks,” he answered, casting his gaze towards the vast lake that bordered the North Downs beyond. Badari quirked a brow, then shrugged. She clearly did not quite accept his excuse, but did not seem inclined to challenge it today.

Halordin rubbed at his shoulder, looking towards a heath of vibrant, tall yellow flowers that sloped towards the lake, then back toward Badari. He needed a distraction from his rumination and a sudden idea brought a mischievous half smile to his lips.

Bending down, he quickly gave Badari’s right ear a soft nip, before silently bounding towards the flowery meadow to the left, leaping over tussocks of grass like a young deer. Annoyed at his teasing, Badari reach up to bat at him, only to find that he wasn’t at her side anymore. She stood up straighter and scanned the area around herself. Halordin had seemingly vanished from sight.

‘Blasted elf, where did you run off to?” she growled with a mixture of exasperation and affection. Spying a disturbance in the flower field, she laughed softly to herself and headed into the meadow, pushing her way through the tall grass.

Verya settled herself down in the grass nearby, licking a paw placidly and watching the pair’s antics with a half-interested gaze.

Halordin had flopped down into the tall wildflowers as soon as Badari’s head had turned, though it appeared she knew where he was anyway, as his keen hearing heard her footsteps coming directly toward his hiding place. Chuckling to himself, the elf relaxed and closed his eyes, and that was how Badari found him, seemingly asleep.

She knelt down beside him, frowning as she poked his cheek with a fingertip. He remained still but for the slightest twitch underneath one eye. The game blown, she smiled softly and brought her face towards his, hovering as she prepared to give him a peck on the lips. A sudden cry of surprise escaped her as Halordin’s eyes flew open and he grinned madly. Rolling quickly away from Badari’s bent form, he dashed towards the lake, laughing as he went. Badari huffed and gave chase, her mane flying in the wind as she sprinted toward him, bent on tackling him to the ground for his cheek.

Halordin took a moment to glance back when he lost sight and sound of her for a moment. He gave an undignified yelp as a solid dwarven mass suddenly barreled into him, bowling him over and leaving him momentarily winded. Both tumbled into the flowers, laughing at one another as their worries were momentarily forgotten. They rolled and wrestled about in the meadow, gently testing their strength until suddenly Badari stopped flat on her back, trying to catch her breath. Halordin landed on top of her, and there he stopped as his own breath hitched.

During their tussle, Badari’s tunic had slipped down one shoulder, exposing pale, freckled skin over her throat and a collarbone. Halordin’s blood seemed to roar in his ears as warmth pooled in his stomach, then spread southward to other regions as he continued staring at her bare shoulder for what seemed like minutes.

A noise of impatience made him tear his gaze away from Badari’s shoulder and into her eyes. She raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for him to move or speak, but he seemed frozen. She relaxed beneath him, her hand coming up to brush an errant strand of silver hair behind a pointed ear.

The world seemed to come to a standstill as emotions Halordin had long forgotten about surged through him. Breathing heavily, for a moment he was overcome by the beauty of the lady dwarf laying beneath him. Her gaze darkened as she looked up at him and her lips parted slightly as she seemed to wait for him to overcome his indecision.

Halordin’s long fingers reached around her to grip the cloth of her tunic at the shoulders roughly, as if he intended to rip off the garment right there and then. A fierceness overcame his expression and was mirrored in hers as she reached up, placing one hand at his back, pulling him closer towards her with a strength that belied her smaller stature.

Not now. Not now.  A voice from within his mind cut through the haze of his ardor, stalling him.

A sharp yowl sounded nearby, shattering the moment between them, whatever it had been.

Halordin loosened his grip on Badari’s tunic as he leaned back to look for his lynx. Verya had spotted a squirrel and was pursuing it into the forest. No orcs, no wargs, nothing of importance.

Halordin sighed as a heavy feeling settled over his heart. He rolled off Badari, not willing to look back into her eyes, although he could feel the weight of her disappointment behind him. For minutes he remained there, hardly hearing Badari adjust her clothing and sit back up, and he tried to process what had just happened.

“We should head back toward Bree,” he murmured more to himself than to her, lurching to his feet with little of his usual grace. He offered a hand to Badari. His heart ached to see the disappointment in her expression. None of the joy or desire of just moments before remained. He was only somewhat mollified when she accepted his hand.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thought, but could not bring himself to give voice to it. He’d make it up to her later, somehow.

—

The walk back into Bree town was silent and tense, with none of their usual teasing or small talk. Night crept over the town and most of its inhabitants disappeared into their homes or the Prancing Pony as the stars appeared, although of course the shadier elements flitted about in the shadows long into the wee hours.

Badari had excused herself earlier, saying she was tired, and had retreated to the room they were currently sharing at the back of the Pony - one usually reserved for their Hobbit guests, but nothing else had been available. He’d probably find her curled up on a bed that was too small even for her later, but as he had little need for sleep himself most nights, it was no great matter.

As Halordin perched atop a wall to observe the landscape outside Bree, his mind kept going back to the events of the day, no matter how much he tried to focus on other matters.

_Why did I stop? The moment was perfect._

He folded his arms over his knees, rested his chin atop them.

The wind seemed to whisper into his ear as it fluttered through his long, dark silver hair. _Wait for the right time…_

_When is the right time?_

—

_Confusing_

That was the word Halordin thought to describe today as he observed Bree-town’s nightlife.

-

The following day brought another message from another ranger, another band of orcs, another quest, and the road turning them East yet again, and they had little time to dwell upon what might become of them...


End file.
